But then today he’d decided to take a day to rest, and a couple hours ago that familiar powerful thirst had come on him. If he hadn’t been in town when the wagon with Ewan’s new supplies had arrived, he might have been okay, but from the moment he’d seen that crate of rum being hauled inside, he hadn’t been able to think of anything else.
His gaze moved involuntarily to the church across the street and up on the hill. He owed a lot to Parson Clay. PC would be mighty disappointed if he had to come haul him out of Ewan’s again. And Kin had no doubt that if he stepped through the alehouse doors, PC would come looking for him later.
But... He returned his focus to Ewan’s. He could hear the music pumping from the old mostly-out-of-tune piano, now. He loosed a breath. Pushed away from the wall and started toward the alehouse.
Just then the front door of Dixie’s Boardinghouse opened and Charlotte Callahan stepped out into his path.
“Whoa!” Only then did Kin realize how quickly he’d been moving. He stepped back. “Sorry about that. I was—” He paused. “You okay?”
Mrs. Callahan quickly dashed at her cheeks. “Kin. Hi. I’m—no.”
“What happened.”
“Well, Dixie went into labor. That’s a good thing.”
Kin eyed her damp cheeks warily. “Is something wrong with her?”
She swiped at the moisture again with a little laugh. “Oh. No. I think she’ll be fine. Doc is with her.” She swirled a motion at her evidence of tears. “This is...because...”
Oh no. Was she going to start crying again? He looked around hoping to see someone he could hand the distraught woman off to, but it was only the two of them on the street.
Her face crumpled. “...a couple of kids broke into Dixie’s and stole some things. Including the money I’ve been saving to buy Reagan’s boots.”
Kin’s focus sharpened on her. “I’m sorry.” His jaw clamped in irritation. The money he’d spent to save those apples, had apparently been wasted. “So you aren’t going to be able to get the sheriff the boots?”
She shook her head. “Wasn’t meant to be, I guess. I need to let Reagan know about the robbery, then I’ll stop by and let Bill know I can’t buy the boots just yet, after all.”
Kin remained where he was as he watched her walk past McGinty’s and on into the jailhouse. He rubbed a hand over the bills in his shirt pocket once more. Glanced at the livery. Looked back at the church.
He sighed.
It only took him half a minute to find Bill Giddens. He was seated on the workbench in his tack room. The old man leaned over a saddle he was hand-tooling, face so close to his work it was a wonder he could see anything.
Kin cleared his throat.
Bill sat up with a start, brows raising. Obviously his ears worked just about as good as his eyes these days because he ought to have heard Kin’s boots crunching over the sandy floor.
“Kin Davis. Lands, you’ve grown boy! What can I do ya fer?”
Kin tossed a glance over his shoulder. He needed to hurry if he was going to pull this off without getting caught.
He tugged the bills from his pocket. “Listen, Mrs. Callahan is going to be here in just a moment—”
“Eh? Speak up, kid.”
Kin raised his voice. “Mrs. Callahan. She’s going to come tell you she can’t buy the boots, but”—he held up the money—“you tell her someone covered it.”
Mr. Giddens gave him an assessive look. “Where’d you get that kind of money?”
“I worked for it.” Kin pressed the bills into the old man’s hands. “And keep my name out of it, would you? Just tell her it was someone who appreciates all she’s done for this town.”
He hurried out the back slider of the barn so that if Mrs. Callahan was already headed this way she wouldn’t see him coming out.
And as he rushed toward the parsonage, he tried his best not to think about the sweet taste of the rum he was missing out on.
Charlotte dragged her feet toward the jailhouse, doing her best to get her sadness in check, but it was no use. By the time she arrived, tears streamed down her face.
The moment she stepped into the room, Reagan lurched from his chair and hurried toward her. “What’s wrong?” He took her by the shoulders and bent to peer into her face. “You’ve been crying. What’s the matter, Charlie?”
Charlotte couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye. Never had a Christmas gone by where she hadn’t given those she loved a gift. And yet here she was, only in her second Christmas of their marriage and she had failed to get her husband a gift.
Now not only would she not have nice hand-tooled boots to give him, but she didn’t even have her original two dollars and change to buy him something mediocre from Jerry Hines’ ‘merkantile.’ Perhaps she should suggest to Pricilla that she get her husband a correctly spelled store sign for Christmas, she thought grumpily.
Reagan’s hands soothed up and down her arms. “You’re scaring me, Charlie. Are you hurt?”
Oh! What was the use in hiding anything from him now? He wasn’t going to get a present, and it would be better if he learned that now instead of after anticipating it for several weeks and then waking up on Christmas and finding no present, right?
She sank against the comfort of his chest, thankful that he had no prisoners in the cells at the moment so they were alone in the privacy of his office. “Oh Reagan, I’m so sorry.”
Reagan’s arms were strong and warm around her back. He pressed his cheek to the top of her head. One hand rubbed small circles into the muscles along her spine. “What are you sorry about?”
Charlotte sniffed and a hiccup caught in her throat. “I’ve failed to get you a Christmas present. At least not one that will be under the tree on Christmas.”
“Charlotte I don’t need—”
“Not that I haven’t tried, mind you. I ordered a pair of boots for you from Bill Giddens. But I only had a couple dollars saved up and they were more expensive than that.” For a moment her throat closed off and she couldn’t get any more words out.
“It’s really—”
“But I went to Dixie’s and Kin Davis came by. He said I make really good apple pie.”
“Yes. He told me the same.” She heard a smile in Reagan’s voice, even as his hand kept rubbing soothing circles.
Why was he finding humor in her confession of failure? The realization made her cry all the harder.
“Anyhow, I’ve been working for weeks, baking apple pies and selling them at Dixie’s!” She felt him stiffen and hurried on before he could interrupt. Maybe if she could just explain all that had happened he would understand. “And I was supposed to go and pay for them today—the boots, not the pies—but I was just at Dixie’s to pick up the money, and these two children were there. And they s-sto-stole all the money.” Forcing herself, she leaned back and looked into his face. He at least deserved that when he heard the bad news. And she ought to see the expression on his face as penance for her failure.
He frowned. “Two children stole your money from Dixie’s just now?”
She felt a fat tear drip off her chin and slide down her neck. “Yes. But they’re long gone by now.” She flapped a hand. “They sent Dixie into labor, and I thought I was going to have to deliver the baby, and Dixie was having a hard time making it up the stairs, so then I thought I might have to deliver the baby on the stairs.”
Reagan looked appropriately appalled.
She nodded. “But Doc is with her now.”
“I’ll wait a bit to go ask my questions then.”
“Probably best. But there was a boy and a girl. They wore bandannas, but I could tell. The boy was maybe fourteen. I saw his face when I hit him with the broom and his gun fell under the stove.”
Reagan’s eyes widened. “They had guns? Wait, you hit him with a broom?”
“He sent Dixie into labor!” Charlotte brushed away his questions about the kids. “Anyhow, now I don’t have money to pay for your p-present.” A sob tigh
tened her chest and another hiccup shook her.
Reagan cupped her face and swiped away her tears with his thumbs. His eyes twinkled as he bent down and pressed a soft kiss against her lips.
She frowned. “Why are you smiling and kissing me when I’ve just confessed that I failed to get you a present?”
He stroked her cheeks again. “Because you are amazing.”
Her face contorted. Had the man not heard a word she said? “But I’m not! I just told you—”
Reagan laid a finger over her lips. “Charlie, I didn’t marry you for the awesome Christmas presents I would get. Giving gifts at Christmas is about the spirit of sacrifice. And I can tell by how upset this has made you that you’ve had that spirit in spades. You tried to get me a pair of boots, right?”
She nodded. “I tried really hard. I even asked Zoe to get a tracing of your feet so I would know what size to order.” She couldn’t help but smile at him through her tears.
He tossed back his head on a laugh. And then rubbed his nose against hers. “You are a genius. And I love you more for wanting to give me a present than for any present you could or will ever give me.”
She studied his face.
His blue eyes filled with merriment looked back at her frankly.
“So you’re really not upset?”
Reagan brushed another kiss against her lips. “I’m really not upset. It’s all going to be fine.”
She released a long sigh. She hadn’t realized until just now how worried she was over how he would feel. “Well, I need to go tell Bill that I can’t pay for the boots right away. But I want you to know, I’ll keep baking and selling desserts until I get them paid for. They just won’t be under the tree at Christmas.”
Reagan stepped back and glanced down at his feet. He lifted first one split-out boot and then the other, and then he gave her a wink. “I can’t see why you thought that was such a good present anyhow. This pair is so comfortable. Nice and airy too.”
Suddenly feeling lighter than a feather, she laughed and gave him a playful smack. “Your mother warned me that I might have a hard time prying them off your feet, but be assured, Sheriff, those boots will disappear when the new ones arrive.”
He gave a dramatic sigh and rolled his eyes. “Fine. If they must.”
Charlotte started for the door, but then paused and turned to face him. “Thank you for not letting Christmas be ruined because of this.”
He tilted her a look. “How could Christmas be ruined when we have each other?”
Charlotte gave in to the temptation for one more kiss. She crossed the room and looped her arms around his neck, offering him a lingering one. “I really am spoiled to have found a man like you.”
He grinned and rocked her from side to side. “Christmas will be amazing, boots or no boots. But Charlie?”
“Yes?”
“I think we should invite Kin Davis to the house. A slice of your pie is probably just the thing to make his Christmas.”
“Oh, I asked him already and he said he has other plans.”
Reagan smiled mysteriously. “Go talk to Bill. And after that, I think you should ask Kin again. I have a feeling he’ll say yes, this time. Tell him I said he deserves some pie.”
Charlotte shrugged and headed for the door. “Okay, I’ll try. Oh and Reagan?”
“Yeah?”
“Go easy on those kids when you find them, would you? I got the feeling they are only trying to survive.”
Reagan frowned. “Trying to survive, or not, doesn’t make it right for them to be stealing stuff around town.”
Charlotte opened the door. “I know. But it is Christmas.”
Reagan sighed. “I’ll keep your wishes in mind.”
She nodded. “That’s all I can ask.”
A few minutes later Charlotte stepped out of the livery feeling like a child on Christmas morning about to explode with excitement. She paused in the street. She propped her hands on her hips, despite the fact that her finishing school teacher would have chastised her for such an unladylike gesture. A glance both up and down revealed no one in sight. Who would have known about her money being stolen and had time to get to the livery.
She felt a bit as though she’d been tied to the end of a whip all day. One moment excited about picking up her money, the next having it stolen, worrying about Dixie, fearing she’d have to deliver the baby, and then being dismissed by Flynn. Confessing to Reagan that she wouldn’t be able to give him the boots and now suddenly finding out that someone else had paid for them and she would be able to have them under the tree after all!
Who could have done it?
Her gaze snagged on the boardinghouse. Susan. It had to have been Susan Kastain. Or Belle? She shook her head. No. Belle gave all her money to her mother. But maybe it was something they had decided on together?
She strode purposefully and pushed through the boardinghouse kitchen door.
Susan must have already taken the pot of warm water upstairs, because she was once more at the table, swiftly shaping the dough she’d kneaded earlier into loaves.
“How are things upstairs?”
“Doc seemed to think things were progressing as they should.” Susan shrugged a shoulder.
Charlotte barged ahead with the purpose of her return. “Susan you are an angel, and I’ll pay you back, honest I will.”
Susan looked up, a blank look on her face.
Charlotte grinned at her. “You may look at me with that innocent face all you want, dear friend, but I know it had to be you.”
Susan’s mouth opened and closed a few times. Her forehead scrunched into a questioning slump. “Whatever you think it is I’ve done, I assure you that I haven’t left the boardinghouse since you and I stood right here a few minutes ago. I heated the water, and only came down from upstairs just a couple minutes ago.” She gestured to the bread. “I’ve been working on these loaves since then.”
Charlotte folded her arms and tilted her head, certain the woman had to be pulling her leg. “So you didn’t just go to the livery and pay Bill Giddens so I could give Reagan boots on Christmas morning?”
Susan’s brows shot up. “Someone did that? That’s wonderful!”
Charlotte plunked her hands on her hips. “It really wasn’t you?”
A smile tugged at Susan’s lips, even as she shook her head. She brushed a lock of her autumn-red hair away from her face. “It really wasn’t me.”
Charlotte stepped to the door and scanned the street once more. “Well! If I believed in Santa Clause I’d say he just swept down from the sky in his sleigh!”
Susan chuckled. “Not knowing is killing you, isn’t it?”
“It really is!” Charlotte nodded.
Across the street from Dixie’s, and up the hill, Kin Davis was just disappearing into the parsonage.
Charlotte gasped. No!
She thought back. Why...it had to be! There was no other explanation!
Tugging her coat tighter about her, she folded her arms and hurried up the hill. It only took a moment after her knock for him to answer the door.
He looked surprised to see her. “Mrs. Callahan. Hi.” He stepped back. “The parson’s not here right now, but...do you need something?”
She didn’t enter. Instead, she searched his face. After her quick accusation of Susan that had turned out to be inaccurate, she was a little more hesitant this time. “Did you pay for Reagan’s boots just now?”
He rubbed the back of his head and looked down. Guilt was written all over his face. “Ahh... Why would I do that?”
“Oh, Kin!” Charlotte could no longer withhold her exuberance. She threw her arms around the startled boy’s neck and hugged him fiercely. “You are amazingly sweet. Some girl is going to be blessed to have you one day!” She stepped back. “I’m going to keep selling desserts and I will pay you back. I don’t want you spending your money to fix my issues.”
Kin folded his arms and kicked at the stoop. “Wasn’t rightly your fault
that the money got stolen. Besides, Mr. Giddens wasn’t supposed to tell.”
“He didn’t. Not a peep.”
Kin peered at her. “So how’d you know?”
She shrugged. “Not many people knew of my predicament. At any rate, thank you from the bottom of my heart.” She started back down the hill but then remembered and turned back. “Oh, and Reagan says that I should insist you come to our house for Christmas. He seems to think you’d like some apple pie.”
Kin’s eyes widened a little. “Yes, ma’am. I think I can arrange that.”
“Excellent! We’ll see you then!” She felt lighter than air as she skipped down the hill.
Sheriff Reagan of Wyldhaven would get his Christmas boots after all.
Dear Reader,
I hope you smiled at least a few times as you read this story. And that this Christmas season you’ll remember that the heart of Christmas isn’t about the hustle and bustle and stress of finding perfect gifts, but about the Savior, King of all creation, who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage. (Philippians 2:6 NIV) Instead, He humbled Himself and was born in a lowly Bethlehem barn so that later He could die for the sins of all mankind! What an amazing Love!
If you enjoyed this story, please leave the book a review. It doesn’t have to be long, but every review helps spread the word, and the world needs more uplifting stories!
Wondering about the thieving kids in this story? Or about Dixie and Doc’s baby? Or about how she is going to manage to get Flynn’s sleigh now that the baby has arrived early? I invite you to read the next episode of this series titled Doc Griffin’s Christmas Sleigh. You can read a short excerpt of it on the next page.
You can find all the books in the Wyldhaven series here on my website. If you would like to read Reagan and Charlotte's story, you can find it in the first book of the series, Not a Sparrow Falls.
Sheriff Reagan's Christmas Boots Page 5